On Assignment
by atopofbrooklynbridge
Summary: The Avengers all live in the now named Avengers Tower and the relationship between Natasha and Clint doesn't go unnoticed, especially when complications arise. Lots of the team and Tony being the lovable ass he is. Clintasha/Blackhawke, Pepperony and some Thor/Jane.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so here is my first Avengers fanfic…! Yayyy **

**So I have read a few of these and I really, really ship these two so… **

**Please read and follow. Reviews make me write faster**

**Enjoy **

They made an attempt to hide it, but it didn't work. Anyone could see it.

Bruce and Steve could see something starting to happen, but he knew that it was none of their business (and they knew Natasha would and could kill them). Thor was just confused, but he too knew something was up. Tony on the other hand, was constantly pestering the both of them about their relationship.

By request, or nagging, of Stark, they all lived in the now named Avengers tower together. Natasha and Barton had both been reluctant to move in, but the building was filled with everything that they could need. Each Avenger had their own floor and there was a common floor where they normally had meals or watched movies. There was also a gym and training room with all the necessities for even the Black Widow.

It was a Tuesday night, the Avengers, with the exception of Thor who was in Asgard and Clint who was on assignment, were gathered in the screening room, about to watch Harry Potter. It was close to midnight, yet none of them were particularly tired. Tony had been bewildered to hear that Steve had never seen it before. Nobody else seems exceptionally surprised however; in the time in which they had been living together they had spent a considerable amount of time teaching Steve the ways of the present day.

"You know what Capsicle," Tony started ranting from his seat on a couch next to Pepper. "Being frozen for sixty something years is no excuse to not be a part of this phenomenon."

Tony looked completely and mortally upset and it only worsened when Natasha spoke up.

"I've actually never seen any of them either," she said. She was seated on the corner of another couch.

"Wh-what!" Tony sputtered. Pepper patted him in comfort.

Natasha sighed, "I haven't really had much time for children's movies, Stark."

Bruce looked silently amused with the whole situation and knew that Tony was going to freak.

Tony was about to start a rampage about how Harry Potter should not be classified as a children's movie, when the elevator dinged. Out walked a dirty and bloody Barton. Natasha was up immediately and the rest of the group turned to watch, concerned about his condition.

"I'm fine, Nat," Clint said quietly to Natasha before waving awkwardly towards the rest of the group.

Natasha looked at him skeptically and accessed his injuries. "You didn't go to med, Barton," she concluded. Barton rolled her eyes.

"I'm gonna skip on tonight's movie," Natasha said. Tony groaned and mumbled something over her needing to get her priorities straight. As they walked back towards to elevator to head up to one of their floors, he smirked causing Pepper to smack the back of his head.

"Ow," he cried out.

"How'd it go?" Natasha asked Clint and as they rode up the elevator.

"Fine, the mark is dead, only got beat up a bit," he said lightheartedly. "How was yours?"

Natasha had gotten back from her's yesterday.

"It was clean," Natasha said.

There was a silence before Natasha pulled Clint in and pressed her lips against his in in a feverish passion. Tongues entwined as the elevator dinged again, alerting them that they had reached the sniper's floor.

They both simultaneously pulled apart and stepped out. They had been hiding their relationship for a few months now, but were well aware of what the rest of their team thought about them.

It wasn't much of a jump for them to be honest. They had both been harboring feeling for each other for years and it took a particularly hard case to pull them together. Natasha remembered it clearly. She remembered Clint lying in a pile of rubble, covered in blood as he slipped out of consciousness. After that things had changed between the two assassins, although they hadn't told anyone, Coulson knew and the rest of the team was starting to catch on.

Natasha led the way Clint's bathroom and sat him down. She grabbed the med kit and then instructed Clint to take off his shirt.

Natasha worked in silence' patching up the various cuts and gashes on Clint. Half an hour she had finished and was pushing Clint into the shower.

Natasha went down a floor to change her clothes and when she came back down, she saw Clint already collapsed on top of the bed in an awkward position. She pulled him under the covers and then got in herself.

"How much do you wanna bet that they're sleeping together," Tony said abruptly, a few minutes after Clint and Natasha had left together. This earned him yet another smack from Pepper.

"That isn't something I would bet on," Steve said carefully. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Come on Grandpa," Stark whined. "Are you really that scared of her?"

"And you aren't," Bruce spoke up. "I'm just saying, it is none of our business. If they are together in that sense, then I would imagine that they have a good reason for not telling us."

Tony scoffed.

"I don't mean together, like in love or something stupid like that," Tony said. He noticeably realized what he had said and backtracked immediately. "I mean for Romanoff," he clarified, looking at Pepper. "They are probably just sleeping together."

Steve looked very awkward in this conversation.

"Hey moron," Pepper said. "Cut it out."

She managed to silence him pretty well.

The next morning everyone was up and having breakfast on the common floor kitchen, except for Clint and Natasha. The avengers, plus Pepper, guessed that they were in the gym or training room.

Tony was just about to voice his opinion on the fact, but he had just opened his mouth when the two walked in.

"Are you guys sleeping together?" A smirking Tony asked, suddenly. This caused Steve to almost spit out his coffee and Banner to look up from the newspaper he was reading.

Clint stifled a laugh and let Natasha take this one. She remained stoic by the archer's side.

"What makes you say that?" she asked. Her hand suddenly grabbed a butter knife and in a split second it was lodged in the wall right beside its victim, holding him there by a piece of his shirt. Tony's smirk suddenly dissolved.

"You could have killed me," he exclaimed.

"Don't ask stupid questions," Natasha answered simply and walked over to the coffee machine. She poured two cups and handed one over to Clint. They each grabbed a piece of toast.

"Hey Tasha," Clint asked. "Wanna head to the training room today before the meeting with the evil pirate?"

"Uh, sure," Natasha replied. "Anyone going to join?"

Steve nodded and Tony shrugged from where he was, still stuck to the wall. He tried to yank the knife out to free himself, but it wouldn't budge.

"Might want to try and take the shirt off, genius," Clint said, amused as he followed Natasha out of the room.

"Was that an answer?" Tony demanded, looking around and everyone. "That wasn't an answer. How did I not get an answer?"


	2. Chapter 2

**So it's been ages. I don't even remember the last time I updated and I feel pretty shitty about it. This time I am not even going to lie and say that there will be another update coming soon, I have no fucking idea when another update will come. I got a lot of requests for this one so I updated it. So I guess the more reviews, the more possible sporadic updates you'll get. Anyway I am not exactly sure about this chapter. I wrote it when I had no wifi and no access to what I had written before so even though nothing major really happens some stuff might be out of place or something. **

**Anyway please review because it is really awesome to actually hear something. If you want anything to happen in this fanfic, let me know. **

Clint didn't want to be here; he would rather be sent to Nigeria again then be forced to do this. And all of SHIELD new how much Clint hated Nigeria. Then again, this time it actually was slightly his fault, not that he would admit it of course. Natasha sat next to him, casually flipping one of her knife in her hands.

They watched as the rest of the SHEILD trainees piled into the training room. Clint had gotten some shit from Fury when he met him the day before and he had seen fit to punish him by making him deal with the fucking useless trainees. Natasha, attempted to stick up for him as it was supposed to be their day off, and it resulted in them both being stuck in this hellhole of a punishment.

The archer tilted his head towards the group, and then back at Natasha. The gesture would be unnoticeable unless somebody was staring unwaveringly at them, but Natasha understood fully what he meant by it.

Clint stood up. As soon as he did so, the group fell silent. It was no secret the kind of agent he was and frankly, it scared them.

"Four groups. Six times around the track we're timing," he said simply, and then sat down again. The group visibly moaned internally. A group of guys spoke up. Clint had them written down inside his head as dicks. He looked at them carefully. These were the full of themselves recruits who might have bested everyone in the preliminary training, but would get themselves or someone else killed by their mere ego in the field. He actually couldn't wait to knock them down a peg. Maybe something interesting would happen today.

"What the hell man, why the fuck do you want us to run six times? Kingston only ever makes us do three," one of the dicks replied. Clint mentally put a name to the face as he recalled reading everybody's file earlier that day. Erik McGregor, thought Clint. Deciding that he liked the name dick better, he stuck to it.

"Is Kingston here today?" Clint asked slowly, staring directly into his eyes, but remained seated. His passive aggressive attitude seemed to bother the dick immensely.

"Well, obviously not, otherwise we wouldn't have you," dick replied. Clint decided he liked this one the least.

"Then get in a goddamn group," Clint said, evenly.

Despite his obvious annoyance, dick did as he was told.

Clint walked back to where Natasha was seated.

"You have a way with the idiots, you know," she told him.

After the group had finished the run, Clint looked at the times that had been recorded. Not to Clint's, Dick (Bill) had the fasted time. Clint rolled his eyes.

"Target next, you are being evaluated on your accuracy and difficulty. You know the rules," Natasha addressed the trainees.

Clint narrowed his eyes on his new prey, Dick. Natasha saw him scrutinizing him and Clint thought that she would tell him off, but instead, she whispered to him in Russian.

"Go ahead," she told him. Clint smirked, but didn't look away from Dick who was now shooting moving targets. He hadn't missed a single one, but his stance was off and once the targets started moving faster, he wasn't going to make it. Apparently, the dick didn't think so.

"I bet that the 'never miss a shot' thing is a joke. I mean come on, I could out shoot the guy," dick said to another one of his fellow dicks. This was just what Clint was waiting for.

"Moving targets with accelerating speed. Two minute max. Dark," Clint stated. Dick was nervous, but didn't let Clint see.

"Done," he said.

Clint smirked again. Not in a friendly way either, but in more of an 'I can and will kill you without breaking a sweat' way. "Wait, you're using a fucking bow and arrow?" Dick questioned, stupidly. "Giving yourself even more of a disadvantage." Even Natasha had to subtly roll her eyes at this guy.

Clint didn't bother responding and another trainee pressed the button that activated the 'blackout' shooting. In the dark like this, the targets would appear as little more than faintly glowing objects. The rest of the trainees filed along the side of the ranges that Clint and Dick were using to watch.

A light flashed three times to signify the start. As it was a race, whoever finishes first, finishes the game.

Within 45 seconds, Clint had hit all of the targets head on the lights turned back on signifying game over.

Natasha walked over to them, crowds parted as she made her way through the group.

"You should have checked who held the record," she simply said to Dick before turning to the rest of the group.

"Sparring tournament, I want to leave so whoever loses is out," she ordered. "Again, you all should know the rules, if you don't, that's too bad. Any foul play and you lose."

Dick, still reeling from his loss, finally took this moment to speak up.

"Winner would go against one of you," he taunted.

Clint and Natasha had a small and silent conversation. Natasha agreed to let Clint burst his bubble.

"Fine," Barton replied. "Underwood and Macintyre, you're up."

The fights were generally pretty normal. Nobody was completely annihilated by another. Natasha found herself getting bored and went back to flipping her knife between her hands.

It was no surprise when Dick, the name had completely stuck, won.

Clint walked up unceremoniously to spar against him. He ducked under the ropes and made the first move before anyone, aside from Natasha of course, even realized the match had started.

Clint had him on the floor unconscious in less than three seconds. He walked casually out of the ropes before returning to where Natasha was, her face still not showing any emotion to people outside of Clint.

"You shouldn't have knocked him unconscious. Fury's gonna have a fit," she said, half-heartedly.

"Don't be a spoil-sport, Nat," Clint retorted, playfully. "I guess we should call medical." Dick still hadn't gotten up from the floor and he didn't look like he was planning on anytime soon.

They arrived at the tower late after completing training sessions with six more groups of trainee shield agents. In each group Clint had found one to three people who he knew wouldn't make it in the field, and tormented them. Natasha, was completely onboard with him and even stepped in with his childlike antics when a dick pissed her off a little too much. Overall they send 23 trainees to medical and were sure that while there would be getting an earful from Fury and maybe even Coulson, they probably wouldn't be forced to do this again.

Clint walked into the shower and let the steam hit his body. Despite having a little ounce of fun with the trainees today, he really didn't want to spend one day off with them. Suddenly, he felt someone behind him. His body tensed and he mentally cursed himself for not paying more attention what was going on.

"It's just me," Natasha whispered into his ear.

"Don't you have your own shower?" He joked light-heartedly, and she knew it. They rarely ever spent time in separate rooms.

"I could go if you want," Natasha replied with a smile.

He turned around to face her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand continued to trace to scars along her body as she washed her hair, scars that his hands new simply by muscle memory. It was something that when they were close was so intimate; he still couldn't believe that the Black Widow would ever let him do it. But then again, the persona behind the Black Widow was different. Natasha Romanoff was a completely different person than what her codename portrayed her as.

"You know," Clint said, with a smirk on his face. "We still have about one and a half hours of our day off…"

Natasha leaned in against him.

"Hmm, I have an idea of what we could do in those two hours," Natasha teased as she got out of the shower and grabbed two towels.

Clint turned the faucet off and grabbed the towel from her outreached hands. Both of the towels were quickly discarded onto the floor as they became preoccupied with each other.

Needless to say, they didn't make it to Clint's bed before they began.

**Thank you for reading :)**

**Please review and follow and shit because it will persuade me to write more. **

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